


Rebirth

by AbbyBelle



Series: Shy [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Arcturus Station, Biotics, F/M, Mindoir, N7, Recovery, SSV Agincourt, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyBelle/pseuds/AbbyBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Shianna "Shy," Shepard, up to joining the Systems Alliance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> Mass Effect and all it's characters belong to Bioware and EA.

“Captain! We have a survivor! We need a medical extraction, ASAP!” She was dimly aware of the voice calling out. A hand was on her chest. If she weren’t so tired, she would be panicking. Instead she lay there languidly, eyes half closed and unfocused. “Stay with me! Sir! We need to hurry!”

By the time the ship arrived, she was barely breathing. Her skin, already pale, was washed out from blood loss. “Ready for extraction.”


	2. Bothered

She wasn’t sure what bothered her more; the difficulty she was having keeping up, the tap of her bare feet on the metal floor, or the lack of real air.

When she had woken, there had been only one other person in the room. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair; that was her first impression of the man standing in the shadows. He didn’t speak. He simply watched as she struggled to breathe around the tube in her mouth.

Eventually, they had removed the tube, and the questioning had begun. Why had the Batarians left her? What had she done to make them beat her so badly? Why wasn’t her family on the colonial registry? When was she born? What was her name?

Eventually, they gave up asking. She never answered.

Most of the crew had begun to call her Skitter, from the way she edged around and bounced in place. The second the doctor had given her the clear, she had vanished from her room, only to turn up for her meds and to sleep-and sometimes not even then.

She liked dark, hidden places. She would watch people from the shadows, behind crates, under ledges, while hanging from catwalks. Mostly she watched the dark man.

He was different from everyone else, she could tell that much by the way he trained, and the way people treated him. If she didn’t know better, she would think he scared the crew.

When she had first found him in the gym, running laps, she had watched from behind a machine. He would run until she thought his lungs would burst (hers certainly would have,) then stop at the punching bag, where he would leap into punches, kicks, and dodges. Then he would be back to running.

Sometimes she would follow him down to the kinetic range, the room where people practiced shooting. It was loud, and there was only one place for her to hide. But she liked to watch.

She wasn’t sure when he started to catch on. Mostly he ignored her as she followed him to and from the range. The first few days she tried to run behind him, he didn’t show any sign of noticing, not even when she coughed and wheezed and hid.

Every day she ran a little farther, her legs and lungs burning as she did.

She wasn’t sure what bothered her more; the difficulty she was having keeping up, the tap of her bare feet on the metal floor, or the lack of real air.


	3. Stilleto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters, but it's how I write. There will be longer ones soon enough, I promise.

“David.” He said, causing her to leap into the air like a startled pyjack. She wasn’t sure when he had dropped back to her pace, but he had. “My name. It’s David.” He added when she looked confused.

He didn’t push for a reply, just jogged along beside her. When she finally slowed to a walk, he nodded before resuming his run at his own pace.

Over the next few days, he continued to slow his pace, not offering any words of encouragement, nor questioning what she was doing. He simply jogged next to her for a few laps before resuming his own run. She still couldn’t keep up, even after a week of pushing herself to her limits.

“You can come out of there.” He always seemed to know when she was near, hiding out and watching him. He was the only one. Everyone else was unaware of her.

Slowly, she slid out from under the counter she had tucked herself under to watch him shoot. “You ever shoot before?” he asked briskly, not turning away from his target. She shook her head and continued to watch, before it occurred to her that he was facing away. “No.” she said softly, her voice rough and quiet from disuse.

David turned towards her slightly, one brow quirked. “Well then, come on. May as well learn.” He said, beckoning her towards him.  “This is a Stilleto VI. Here’s how you hold it. Your hands sit like this-no no, not like that. See, curl this finger… there you go. Now, you need to turn so your body is behind your gun. No, here, like this. See how straight you are? Now, hold your arms out, yes, just like that! That’s how you avoid kickback. I can tell you, getting hit in the face with a gun isn’t pleasant.”

Her first shot took the target in the head.


	4. Names and Reasoning

They had been out for a month now, with David gently encouraging her to work with him in the gym and on the range. They had dug up some boots that were only a few sizes too big for her, but she still tended to run around bare footed.

“Shepard.” She said one day as he jogged alongside her. “Hmm?” he asked, glancing over at her. She looked up at him under her pale red bangs, then lowered her eyes back to the ground again. “My name. Shianna Shepard.” She mumbled, very carefully not looking at him. He just nodded and went back to running.

Shepard grew to appreciate the way he never pushed, though she _was_ a little unhappy when he told the ship’s Captain her name. It was now a tossup as to who called her Skitter, and who called her Shy.

She didn’t know why they hadn’t handed her over to Children’s Services yet. She knew they had passed by several stations that could have shipped her to Earth, or to another colony where she could be assigned foster parents.

And yet there she was.

When she finally got the nerve to ask David what was going on, he was cleaning up after a drop. His armor was striped, red and grey, with a patch on it. “You want the truth, Shy?” he grunted as he craned to unbuckle his chest plate.

“Yes.” She replied softly, unlatching the portions of his armor that latched in the back. “You’re an unknown. I don’t feel it’s safe to foster you out with how little we know about you. Your name brings up a blank. There were no IDs in your house, hell, even the property was illegal and hard to find. You’re way too good at hiding and sneaking around. It makes me suspicious.” He rattled off, turning to stare down at her as he did.

Stepping back, she nodded. She had figured they would be suspicious about her life, or rather, the lack of evidence of it.

She was sitting on a crate in the hanger when he was done showering. “You’re going to miss dinner,” he said. This time she didn’t jump. When she didn’t reply, he sighed, shaking his head and stalking off.

By the time he had returned, she was hugging her knees, eyes haunted and unhappy. “Eat.” He ordered, hauling himself up beside her and falling to on his own tray of somewhat edible goop. She fell to it. That was an order, after all.

“You’re wondering why my opinion matters as to where you go from here.” He said suddenly. It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyways.

“It looks suspicious. Even I have a hard time finding you when you don’t want to be found. You’re not a bad shot, and what the doctor could see from the scans was bad. It’s my job to assess threats. So far as we know, you could be a Batarian sleeper, with one of those damn implants. As soon as we drop you, you could be disabling security for raids. I can’t let you go until either I’ve established that you’re not a threat, or we find someone else to do so.” He finished, returning to his meal and allowing her to process.  He didn’t truly believe that she was implanted. She had been through a dozen or more scans since they had picked her up. But he felt it proved his point.

“Thank you for bringing me dinner,” Shy mumbled after a long silence. She slithered off her crate bonelessly, half-eaten dinner balanced on one hand. David watched as she padded across to the elevator, then heaved a heavy sigh once she was gone. He felt bad for her, he really did, but he couldn’t endanger innocent lives over her silence.

Shaking his head, the N7 finished his dinner before returning to the mess hall. She would talk when she was good and ready.


	5. Nightmares and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning. There are mentions of physical abuse in this chapter.

_He looked so angry, angrier than she had ever seen him, angrier even than when mama had run off. “Daddy I’m sorry!” she cried, stumbling back and clutching her nose. She tasted blood in the back of her throat, could feel it running down her face. Her eye was already swollen shut, the blood matting in her lashes._

_“What did I tell you about talking to strangers?!” he screamed at her, the gun in his hand raising threateningly._

_“I’m sorry! Please, I’M SORRY!” she screamed back, voice nasal from the break in her nose._

“Shianna! SHIANNA!”

Shy jerked awake, a scream tearing from her as she threw her hands over her head to defend herself. “Anderson, step away! You’re scaring the poor thing!” she heard dimly. Then soft hands were catching hers, slowly tugging them down.

“Shy. Do you remember me? I’m Dr. Chakwas. I’m your doctor here on the Einstein. You’re safe, I’m here, and so is Anderson.” Her soothing voice faded to a drone in the background as she checked the girl for any injuries sustained in her sleep.

When she found nothing and had given a shot of something to help her sleep, Chakwas excused herself to check on her other patients, leaving Shy and David alone.

“Daddy ran Ryncol.” This time it was David who jumped. Shy had been so quiet, he had thought she had fallen back asleep. “Mama left and took Ally with her. It was just me’n him, sometimes Ganar Baak. He actually ran it. Daddy stilled it. When I got old enough, I watched the still, made sure no one got in. Mostly it was pyjacks. Sometimes dogs.” Shy trailed off, grey eyes dark at the memories.

David watched her from the corner of his eye as she unconsciously touched the ridge of the scar that ran across her face, but kept silent. If he pushed, she would spook, and then the truth would _never_ come out.

“Daddy told me, nobody knew about me, so nobody would care if I died. He hit me sometimes. When a pyjack died in the vats, he broke my fingers. Only the right hand, though. He said I still had to shoot. The day the Batarians… he beat me. He was so mad. A man he knew came to visit, an he kissed on me. I bit him and hid in the caves where the still was. Daddy was so mad. He said he’d kill me for runnin’ off his best customer.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she continued, not allowing David to interrupt. “It weren’t the Batarians what shot me. When daddy heard them comin’, he said he’d see me dead before I gave away his secrets. He came back when they got to the house. I’d just crawled back in my bed. It hurt so bad. Daddy had never beat me so hard before. They got him right after he got me. They left me there. I guess they didn’t wanna fix me up to sell me, or somethin’.”

David had never heard the girl talk so much. She was usually curt, if polite, giving one or two-worded answers to every query thrown her way… when she opted to answer at all. She had a twang in her voice that he hadn’t noticed before, and he wondered dimly where her family had come from for her to sound so… rustic.

Eventually, sleep reclaimed her, and David stood. He believed her, and would file her transfer paperwork immediately.


	6. Booze and literature

“Shepard?” a sharp voice called out. “Here.” She responded obediently, not raising her eyes. She had been on the station for several weeks, now, and had settled into the routine of daily life.

Arcturus wasn’t the type of place kids usually got sent for fostering, she could tell that the minute she stepped off the Einstein’s shuttle. It was military, through and through. And yet, it had begun to feel like home.

When she had arrived, she had been given a designation, and placed in a group. It wasn’t until about a week later that she found out that the group she was in were biotic potentials. She supposed it made sense, when she thought about it. The hunger, the way alcohol just buzzed right out of her system with next to no effect. Hell, she had spent more than a few nights hiding out with Lieutenant Zabaleta, sharing his bottle of whiskey. The Lieutenant would always end up blind drunk, leaving her to finish the bottle.

He said he had the dreams, too.

The other biotic potentials-s _tudents,_ she corrected herself wryly- left her well enough alone. She never pushed for time training. In fact, when she could, she gave her slots up to the others. She had no interest in it.

Shy felt out of place among the other potentials. They spent their free time lifting and pushing one another, flaring like miniature stars, and telling stories about their biotic experiences. She couldn’t contribute to their competitions. She couldn’t even lift an empty glass.

So she ducked out while they bickered and fought, preferring to sneak down to where the Turians gathered for practice.

Though she was loathe to admit it, Shy thought they were beautiful and a little frightening. But they never lied, never cheated, and never misrepresented things to get their own way. They seemed brutally honest… and she could appreciate that, even if she tended to omit things herself.

An annoyed voice jerked her out of her thoughts. “Sir..?” she asked, blinking up at her instructor owlishly.

“I said, would you read the next paragraph please? Unless you have something better to do, that is?” Instructor Raleon sniped.

“I don’t feel so well…” she mumbled ducking her head and staring resolutely at her desk. “I see… Shepard, please see me after class. I believe we need to have a discussion.” The Salarian replied, mouth pinching before he called someone else to read the passage.

Slouching in her chair, Shy stared at the space on the floor between her feet, aware of the curious eyes of her classmates burning into her back.

The rest of the class period dragged on, until finally, mercifully, the buzzer went off. Standing, Shy hurried towards the door, intent on escaping before- “Shepard. I believe I wanted to speak with you after class.” Instructor Raleon called from his desk.

Freezing guiltily, Shy turned back, hand clutching her notebook. “Sir..?” she asked softly, gazing over his shoulder.

“Shepard. I’ve asked you to read several times for the class, now, and yet… you always have an excuse, or are curiously absent on these days. Your arithmetic is phenomenal. I don’t see why you don’t feel comfortable reading for the class.” He said, leaving the unspoken question hovering between them.

When she mumbled something, his brow lowered irately. “Speak up, girl.” He snapped, crossing those long, narrow arms across his barrel-esque chest.

“I said I can’t read!” she snapped, knuckles turning white with the strength of her grip on her notebook. “You can’t..?” he parroted before straightening, eyes growing gentle. “You’ve never gone to school, have you?” he asked, not unkindly. “No… no sir.” She replied, ducking her head and looking at the floor between them.

“I see… I think perhaps, while the other students practice their arithmetic, you and I shall endeavor to teach you to read.” The Salarian nodded firmly. “Yes. You don’t need the practice for mathematics, to be honest. Yes, that will be perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, Shepard. You’re dismissed.” He turned and wandered back to his omniboard, already lost in thought.

Shianna wasted no time in escaping.


	7. The shortest fuse

She wasn’t sure where her plan had gone wrong, but it most certainly had. Her head, now bare of the luxurious red curls that had previously graced it, rested on the thin fabric of the hospital pillow.

There were only two other people in the ward with her. Actavias and Jordon. Jordon sniffled quietly in her corner, while Actavias huffed and tried not to fidget.

“Report. Now.” A deep, angry voice demanded. The three miscreants flinched into attention, as much as they could in their various states of duress. “Shepard. I should have known you were involved in this,” Rear Admiral Mikhailovich snapped, not bothering to release them from their attempts at attention.

“Rear Admiral Mikhailovich, Sir! I would like to begin by taking full responsibility for the actions of both Miss Jordon and Shepard.” Actavias rattled off, brushing off a stiff salute. The Admiral barely acknowledged him before bringing those beady eyes to bear on Shy.

“I said, report.” He repeatedly coldly.

With a nod, Shy gathered her admittedly scattered thoughts. “Sir, at approximately 18:00, myself, Jordon, and Private Actavias began our daily preparations for applied technical and martial skills.” She began, bracing herself for the inevitable question.

She was not disappointed.

“Applied technical and martial skills? That is not an approved activity for your designation, nor is it a course block within Arcturus.” The unpleasant man interjected. “I am aware, sir. Jordon and I are among the least powerful candidates, and as such, have not been amped. When we met Private Actavias and saw the types of projects he was working on, we were intrigued, and took it upon ourselves to further our curriculum.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Shy had watched Actavias work for days before advising a new wiring system for him to try. When he had found out it worked, the two of them had become thick as thieves, stealing every spare moment they could to cobble together mods and hacking equipment. Hell, she had even learned how to overclock her omnitool. Jordon, who was indeed one of the lesser candidates, had followed her down to their hiding spot, intent on causing Shy grief.

“I came up with a way to shape a pulsse to short out shielding, and the Private was helping. When Jordon showed up, we were startled, which triggered an early detonation.”

Again, not _exactly_ a lie. Shepard had indeed thought up a pulse to remove residual shielding. When she had explained her thesis to Actavias, he had lit up. The Turian was eager to learn, and this particular idea was a good one. The only problem was that in order to create the pulse, they had to begin with a charge… and explosions were frowned upon on the space station. It had taken days of sneaking about to get together enough equipment for the initial charge.

Jordon had followed Shy down, watching them until she grew bored. The other girl was gorgeous, and to be honest, didn’t have a lot going on in her head. “What are you _doing?”_ she had asked, a sneer in her voice as she nudged their charge with her boot. “Jordon! What are you-“ Shy began before stopping, eyes tracking the movement down. While she and Actavias had been working at their bench, the ninny had started messing with their project.

“Jordon. You need to step away s _lowly.”_ The redhead said softly, holding up her empty hands. “Uhg. Why should I? Back home, I was _somebody._ I didn’t have to take orders from some stupid hick bitch. I didn’t have to glow to get attention.” The girl said, words growing ever more vehement. “But now, I’m stuck here, with on this _stupid_ station, with _stupid_ biotics, learning _stupid_ military stuff.” She snapped, aiming a kick at the charge each time she said stupid. On the final kick, Shy lunged forward to push her away, just in time for the explosives to go off.

By the time she had come to, her head was mostly bare, and she had been given a good twenty stiches and some change.

“Let me see if I understand this… you… _children…_ were setting _explosives_ on the station. _My_ station?” the Admiral asked incredulously. After several moments of incoherent rage, the Admiral finally straightened himself, eyes flashing dangerously. “This will not go unpunished. I will be speaking with Captain Victus _immediately_ regarding-“ “Regarding what, may I ask?” the cool, dual tones interrupted.

“Captain Victus. I demand immediate action be brought to bear against your Private. He has abused Alliance hospitality, and…” eventually, Shy tuned the man out. She was more interested in Victus. The Turian man was tall, far taller than she, and wiry even for a Turian.

“Actually, I think it shows incentive.” Victus interrupted again, turning to survey the three miserable looking teens. “I would like to formally invite these three to use the laboratories in my Embassy… with the stipulation that there are no more un-announced explosions.” She wasn’t sure, but Shy could _swear_ that there was amusement twinkling in the Captain’s eyes.

Eventually, the Admiral and Captain retired to continue their arguments in private, leaving three _very_ relieved kids alone in the ward.

“So…” Shy said slowly, fingering the tight stiches in the side of her head and laying back gently. “Think we could reinforce the detonation?”


	8. Noodles

“Skitter!”

Shy jerked in her seat, looking up from the datapad she was slowly reading her way through. Her hair had lengthened out in the month since ‘the incident,’ as it was called. It was now about two inches long, curling wildly without its own weight pulling it flat.

She barely had time to set it down before a burly marine was lifting her into a hug, spinning her around and thumping her back before passing her off to the next man. She laughed, a surprised peal of noise that almost made her current hugger drop her. “Damn Skitter, good to hear you laugh!” a man she recognized as Private Martin called out, ruffling her hair.

Finding her feet, Shy smiled up at the men who had lived with her for the three months she had been on the Einstein. “Put the datapad down, girly. We’re buyin’ ye dinner.” Lieutenant Brosky rumbled, his accent as thick as ever. She began to protest, only to find the world suddenly tilt as she was thrown over a broad shoulder. Yipping and pounding the back of the marine carrying her, she protested weakly. “I have curfew at ten!”

The restaurant the men chose was small, but nice, with large tables and slightly dimmed lighting. Shy found herself seated between Private Martin and a man she didn’t know. “So, girly. Heard ye been causin’ trouble, eh?” Brosky grinned, waggling his bushy eyebrows at her. “Bout damn time. Kid yer age shouldn’t be so quiet. Little trouble’s good fer ye.” He continued, waving over a tall, willowy woman and ordering for the table. She snorted and explained what had happened after the waitress had left.

“Where’s… where’s Zabaleta?” she asked after a few minutes of content silence. She had felt a little hurt when her old drinking buddy hadn’t come to say hi along with the rest of the Marines. Hell, even the men taken on after she had disembarked were seated with them, eyeing her curiously.

At her words, the men who had been on ship deflated slightly, ducking their heads and refusing to meet her gaze. “What? What happened?” she asked, voice rising as no one replied. “Skitter… girly… He’s fine, he just… what he saw… the way we found ye… He didn’t take it so well.” Brosky rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Hannah tried to help, but… he was discharged on medical.”

Shy looked at him askance, mouth hanging open slightly. “Is he okay?” she asked softly, hands clutching her tea. “Last we heard he was okay. He hasn’t contacted anyone in about three weeks.” The new Marine, the one seated next to her, replied when the others weren’t forthcoming.

She jumped when he spoke, turning towards him in surprise. His voice was husky and soft, strangely pleasant to listen to. “Lieutenant Commander Daniel Powell.” He introduced himself, offering a large, callused hand for her to shake. “Sir.” She said, snapping off a salute after he released her hand.

“At ease… Skitter, was it? You’re not even military as of yet. No need to stand on rank.” He sounded vaguely amused. She relaxed slightly. Her designation wasn’t technically military, but the officers on the station certainly expected them to stand on ceremony.

“Anyways. I regret to inform you that I’m the officer who filed for his discharge. He wasn’t coping… drinking on the job, leaving his post, insubordination… he needs help, and he couldn’t get it like that.”

She nodded and opened her mouth to question him further, only to sit back, interrupted by the waitress returning with a large plate of some type of noodles. The men took turns with the large spoon, piling their plates high before passing it off to their left. She had the feeling this was something they were used to.

“How do I..?” she asked cautiously, picking up the pair of sticks where the silverware would usually be (Shianna had no idea why they called it silverware. According to her studies, silver hadn’t been used in anything other than weapons modifications for years.)

With a chortle, Commander Powell leaned over, showing her his hand as he settled his own pair of sticks, before snagging a noodle off her plate and downing it gleefully. “Ah…” Shy looked at the sticks, trying to find the correct hold for them, before giving up and holding them together as a sort of impromptu scoop.

When her companions burst out laughing, she looked offended for a long second before snorting and turning towards Powell for help again. “Can you show me slower?”


	9. Advances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning. Non consensual contact in this chapter.

When Shianna returned to the barracks, she was accompanied by the Lieutenant Commander. The other men had offered to join them on the walk, but Powell had waved them off with a quirked brow and orders to get some rest.

At first, the walk was quiet. Shy still had an hour to return, so they opted against grabbing a seat on the Rail- Arcturus’ automated public transport. She quickly warmed up to the man. He was kind, funny, and handsome with his bright blue eyes and blond hair.

The third time she snuck a peek at him from under her eyelashes, he caught her looking. He smirked as she flushed and quickly ducked her head. The man was a good foot taller than her, but he didn’t loom. Instead he walked alongside her, occasionally casting those ocean eyes her way.

“So… Skitter… why do they call you that?” he asked suddenly. Shy jumped. He hadn’t spoken since they had left the restaurant.

“Ahh… I think… because I was so skittish when I woke up, and they didn’t know my name.” she replied slowly, ruffling a small hand through her wild curls. “You didn’t give them your name?” he asked in surprise. “No. Didn’t talk much at all. Still don’t, really.” She replied, biting her lip.

“So what is it?” Shy turned towards him, a confused look on her face. “Your name,” he clarified. “Oh. Shianna Shepard. Everyone calls me Shepard, though.”

He nodded and paused, long enough for her to get a little ahead before she realized he wasn’t with her. “Sir..?” the redhead inquired nervously, returning to him. “Please. Call me Daniel. I was just wondering… what happened here?” She flinched away from his hand as it traced the ugly scar that crossed her face diagonally. “Pistol whipped, Sir.” She said, turning towards the alley that lead to the back entrance of her barracks.

A hand on her shoulder stopped her about ten feet in. Turning, she looked up at him curiously. “Sir?” she asked, eyes flicking to either side. The hand on her shoulder slid up the side of her neck to cup her cheek. She instantly tensed, eyes flying up to the large officer staring down at her intently. “Shame. You’d be such a pretty little thing if they hadn’t touched the face.” He murmured, turning her face away as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her throat. She gaped, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Sir, I don’t think-“ Shianna began, only to be cut off by a hand over her lips. She was so shocked, all she could do was stare at the man as he tugged at the buttons of her Alliance issue cadet blouse. Once that was done, the hand not covering her mouth slid up under her undershirt, stroking across her breast, causing her to jerk against him.

“I just won’t look at your face, okay? Girl like you is lucky to get a man like me, you know?” he rasped, voice lowering menacingly.

At his words, Shy jerked out of her stupor, yanking back from his grasp and bringing her hands up to claw at the back of his head. “Shit! Ow, fucking… stop that!” she heard him snarl as he withdrew his hand from her blouse before striking her across the ear. There was a slight _pop,_ then pain flared behind her eyes, followed by a rush of darkness.

The Lieutenant Commander scowled furiously as he let the girl collapse on the ground, her eyes slightly unfocused. She was out like a light, which sucked, but he’d take it. His large hands caught her undershirt, yanking it up and pulling her bra down, freeing those amazing tits. It had taken all his will power not to stare at them all night.

The girl was a little chubby for his taste, but the wild red curls of her hair and the ivory cast to her gently freckled skin made up for it. He loved him a redhead. And those _eyes_. He’d never seen eyes that pale on a human, a soft, almost silvery grey. They reminded him of this pretty little Asari he’d found raiding a slave ring.

She had been all too grateful to the man who had saved her. Tall, lithe, muscular... He had certainly enjoyed his reward.

But this one… she was soft, all curves. Short. He liked them taller, muscular. If it wasn’t for the color or her hair, like fresh blood, he would never have given her a second glance. She really was lucky to end up with a man like him.

His hands caught her belt, worrying at it with narrowed eyes. The catch just would _not_ come loose. Finally, with a growl, he slipped a knife loose from his boot, cutting it. His hands were tangled in her pants, which were in turn caught around her knees, when she started beneath him.

“Wha..?” Shy slurred. The world was slowly coming back into focus, a ringing in her left ear that wouldn’t stop no matter how much she shook it out. A low mutter drew her attention, and she looked down at the officer straddling her legs, recognition sparking.

“Get… off.” Her hands didn’t want to work. Something wet was in her ear. Wet and warm. It took her a moment for the pain and ringing to coincide with the liquid, then she realized. It was blood.

A small sound escaped her throat as his hand caught her wrists, pinning them above her head as his knee pressed between her legs. His mouth was on her hip, her belly, her shoulder. His teeth caught her nipple-


	10. Rebukes

“Open,” a firm voice instructed, placing a tab against her busted lip. The girl obeyed automatically, eyes glassy and dim. “-dangerous! Look what she did to him! He’s lucky to be alive!” a voice was bellowing in the background. She gave no sign that she heard, but the doctor activated the privacy curtain regardless.

“Shianna… Do you remember me? I was your physician on the Einstein. Doctor Chakwas.” The dark haired woman murmured in her soft, soothing voice. The wand in Shianna’s mouth buzzed and the doctor withdrew it, turning to read over the results.

She stared at the woman silently, dimly aware of the sticky, tacky feel of dried blood around her nose and ear. Her head felt like it was going to split, especially when dark energy rippled across her skin with a soft crackle.

“How is she?” a deep voice asked, husky with worry. “She’s in shock, Anderson. We barely got her to stop screaming… what’s the condition on the bastard..?” Chakwas asked just as softly, watching the poor girl carefully. “Shaken up. She stung him pretty bad; lesions on about 15% of his body, a few broken bones… he’ll recover. His career won’t, though. Not if I have anything to say about it.” The man growled, hands clenching into fists. “Can I talk to her?”

He didn’t even wait for her nod before approaching the still-sparking biotic. “Shy… hey, it’s me… David.” The N7 said softly, kneeling in front of her and peering up at her bloodied face. “I heard you blew up part of the station. The boys were so proud of you for that. And Victus is teaching you about electronics, huh?” He continued to murmur as he slowly reached out and wiped the blood off her face. That gentle gesture was too much for the girl; she began to shake as he cleaned her battered face. By the end, she was a wreck.

David held her while she cried.


	11. The smell of smoke

The trial for Lieutenant Commander Daniel Powell passed without ceremony while Shianna was in surgery. She sported a new L3 implant, fresh off the assembly line. Powell sported a dishonorable discharge for conduct unbecoming an officer.

David stayed long enough to make sure that Powell left the station. Shy was sad to see him go. She adored the man, though she would never tell him as much. Instead she called him to watch his ass, waving and not watching his shuttle take off. Chakwas left with him, but not before giving the girl firm instructions on caring for her implant.

Admiral Mikhailovich watched her sullenly, angry over the loss of one of the men he had put up for promotion, but she was on her best behavior. She went to her lessons, visited with Victus and crew, spent time reading with Intructor Raleon, and spent every free moment in the gym or firing range.

She turned seventeen on the station, and asked to be put forward for the Alliance Early Admittance Program. She was accepted (thanks to several shining endorsements from her instructors.)

Another person was accepted as well… Jordon. She was as pleased as Shy, though she fought hard to hide it. After the incident, the two had become steadfast friends. Along with Actavias, they were thick as thieves.

“I got accepted into the EAP!” Jordon yelled, dancing around in excitement. Actavias grinned hugely, mandibles twitching in amusement. “So I guess we better get you girls in shape, huh?” he chirped, dual tones decidedly amused when they girls gave him the news.

They only had a month before their tests, and so pushed themselves (and each other,) hard. Jordon remained un-amped, but between Actavias’ and Shepard’s pushing, quickly brought her marksmenship and PT up to Alliance par.

“I passed!” Jordon screamed happily, storming into the room the three used for their projects. Actavias swept her into his arms, spinning her in circles before setting her down. They stopped, staring at each other, arms still wrapped around one another… Shy quietly left.

That last evening seemed to last forever. Shianna wandered the station, read, and finally wandered down to the range. It was closed, but she could still savor the smell of gunmetal and smoke that lingered on the air. She sat there for hours, staring down the range at the targets.


	12. Victory

Shy bolted down the path, dodging people narrowly in a mad, headlong sprint. She had fallen asleep at the range, curled up on a bench, and only the opening chime had woken her up. A quick glance at the station clock tower showed o’seven hundred hours. Her test was at eight… on the other end of Arcturus.

She dashed into the dorm building, panting with exertion as she stripped in the hall. The ID chip in her wrist triggered her door. She tripped through it, hunting for a clean cadet’s uniform frantically. She popped a chewable toothbrush in her mouth before zipping back out, buttoning her blouse as she jogged through the building.

By the time she made the testing compound, her short hair was a mess of sweaty curls. With fifteen minutes to spare, she dodged into the women’s lavatory to wet her hair down. Then she seated herself on the bench to wait.

“Shepard?” a tinny voice crackled over the PA. She marched over to the door, took a deep breath… and entered.

* * *

 

Shianna panted slightly, sweat pooled into the back of her blouse. Her legs ached, as did her arms and belly. The physical had been rigorous. She waited nervously, cooling down as they ran her numbers on the written aptitude test.

“Shepard?” the proctor for the day inquired. When she gave her assent, he handed her a portfolio. She opened it with hands that barely shook, and looked at the paper. A red 98 was scrawled across the top in red. She looked up, eyes brightening as he held out his hand. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Systems Alliance Marines, Private.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last few chapters were a little small, sorry!


End file.
